


We Only Come Out at Night

by Malificent



Category: Avenged Sevenfold
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Spanking, Vampires, noncon spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1588142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malificent/pseuds/Malificent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Zacky decided to turn Gracie LaFleche into a vampire, he thought it would be all fun and games. Little did he know the trouble his mischievous, stubborn young vampling would cause him. Or that he would love her through it all. </p>
<p>Disclaimer: I do not own/am not associated with Avenged Sevenfold, Zacky Vengeance or any other Avenged Sevenfold members. Gracie LaFleche however is my OC and I own her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Questionable Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the first chapter of many! Hope you enjoy. (:

The list of things his vampling did that infuriated him was endless. She was sassy and disobedient, snotty, spoiled... She knew damn well how to get on Zacky's last nerve, and she did it. Today, though, she had finally pushed him too far. 

She knew the rules, of course she did. Be home by 4am, before the sun rose and fried her ass. Or he would fry it himself. She'd only been twenty minutes late, sidling in and closing the door just as the first rays of light stretched their arms out across the grass. Her victory dance had been cut short by his voice cutting through the air. 

"Grace! Where in the actual fuck have you been?!"

She couldn't tell if he was more worried or furious, but that question was alleviated as he gripped her arm tightly, yanking her away from the door. "I got a little sidetracked." She tried.

His face told her he was not buying it. It wasn't often that he got very stern with her, but his green eyes glared out at her in a way that told her he wasn't buying her bullshit. It was almost daylight, and despite the dark curtains pulled over the window, she could tell the impending day wore on him. He crossed tattooed arms, scowling at her. "I'm gonna fucking give it to you." He hissed, "but right now, get your ass to bed. The sun is up, it's late. You better believe you're in shit though. I'm not taking you to the show tomorrow-- no, you're grounded. You're gonna stay here and wait for me, and when I get home, you're getting a good spanking."

 

She felt her guy tighten and drop as he locked the door and stalked off to bed, only pausing to make sure she was following up to her own room. She listened to him as he walked up to his room and slammed the door, leaving her alone in her bedroom to sulk.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd pushed his buttons and definitely not the first time he'd spanked her. She had lived with him for a year now since he had made her undead and since then had seen fit to spank her exactly twice.

The first time she has snarked him one too many times and found herself unceremoniously upended over his knee. No amount of kicking had prevented him from warming her bum with his hand, but her bawling managed to get to him. It hardly hurt over her jeans, but she tugged at his heart strings with her tears and managed to get off with just a few stinging swats.

 

The second, he had had more resolve. She couldn't remember what she had done exactly, but she remembered how serious his eyes got suddenly. That time, he tugged her jeans around her ankles and spanked her bottom covered only by her panties. She wailed and cried but he kept on until it really hurt, her bottom painted a pretty pink by his fingers.

 

That had put her off misbehaviour for a while. But now, she knew he was going to give it to her good. He had never made her wait before, and he was really really angry. She couldn't hear him from her bedroom but she knew he was there and just his angry presence had Gracie rubbing her bottom as it tingled, prickling with anticipated pain of her punishment. She knew this was part of his plan. To make her sorry, to make her wait and anticipate. That bastard. She fell asleep when the sun dragged itself high above, bottom covered protectively by her hands. 

\- - - - - 

 

Standing in front of the crowd, they screamed his name, but all he could think of was Gracie. Matt was right when he had reminded him of what she really was. "Zacky, man," he'd said, "We're not talking about a kid or a little puppy, she's a fucking killing machine. She's dangerous. And she's putting both of you in danger when she can't follow simple rules."

 

He was right. Any doubts he may have had, thinking maybe he had been too hard on her in his anger, was gone. In fact, he felt entirely satisfied knowing she was at home, probably sulking. He knew how much she would hate knowing he was here, being fawned over by fan girls when she wasn't around. Good. He hoped she was sorry, and he hoped she was anticipating the punishment she had coming. 

 

It would be a lie if he said he didn't enjoy looking at her fantastic ass. Fuck, it was voluptuous and beautiful. She was hot, any man would be pleased to have that ass over his lap. He was eager to get home to her, so eager he felt like he was not quite all there. Their stage antics kept him in the moment, but as soon as the show was done, he clapped Matt on the shoulder and got the hell out of there. After all, he'd left his fledgling waiting.

 

\- - - - - -

Gracie was not happy about being left at home. She'd hidden in her bedroom from Zacky all night, only venturing out when he left for the show. She was not at all happy. Her face flushed with envy every time he pictured him there, girls calling his name, reaching for him. He was hers. He was her maker, hers. They didn't even know him, didn't know anything about him! And he had left her here, ashamed that she had been so naughty to deserve to be left behind, stomach in knots, ass tingling in anticipation.

 

She had been trying to entertain herself with the tv while he was gone, curling up around Iggy on the sofa. She had almost forgotten what awaited her until the room filled with the sound of the door swinging open and banging against the door stop. Her stomach knotted into a tight ball, wedging itself high into her gut. 

 

She didn't know what to do but to go and stand in the doorway and eye him warily, embarrassed and apprehensive. "How was the show?" She whispered, rubbing one bare leg against the other.

He hung his jacket up, reaching down to scratch the heads of the two dogs that ran to greet him. "It was good, good energy. Matt, Johnny, Jimmy 'n Brian went to the bar, but I decided to come home." 

The implication hung in the air. He came home to her. Because he had unfinished business with her. 

He stood in the foyer with his shoes still on, his eyes boring through her. She was hoping that he had forgotten the promised spanking, but she could tell by the look on his face that he hadn't. He had come home early, just for her.

She felt the wings of a million tiny butterflies beating against her ribs and belly. She wanted to beg him not to, promise that she had learned her lesson and would never, ever be late again, would listen to his every word, but he wasn't falling for her tricks. Not this time. His eyes, the colour of the ocean in the sun, looked right through her. 

"Go up to your room, Gracie. Let's get this done with, alright? I wanna have a beer and watch Game of Thrones." He said, nodding towards the hallway.

She twisted her hands, frowning. She didn't argue, though she did wonder if she was invited to drink beer and watch shows or if she was banished to her room forever. He had already dragged this punishment out forever. So long a part of her was looking forward to it, just so it would be over an she wouldn't have to live in the shadow of his anger anymore. She might be a bratty little girl often, but she still loved him, she still wanted him to be proud of her and show her off.

She didn't know what to do with herself when she had gone to her room. First she stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for his footsteps, and then she sat on the bed, legs shaking. She thought she might be sick, her guys were so twisted. 

He took his sweet time coming up. Truthfully, he liked knowing she was squirming up there, waiting for him to come up and redden her ass. She had broken a rule blatantly and she deserved to be punished for it. Zacky wasn't a cruel or a harsh guy, but he did what needed to be done. And sometimes, he liked to feel powerful.

Gracie was his first fledgling and when he created her, he took responsibility for her. He loved her with every bit of his dead heart, but that didn't mean that she could evade punishment. He wasn't gonna let some 22 year old vampire brat rule the house.

When he saw her sitting on her pink bedspread, she didn't look 22, or like an undead killing machine. She looked young and nervous, staring at him with appraising, sorry eyes. That wasn't going to get her out of what she had coming though.

He sat down at her side and she felt suddenly sick with apprehension, but his voice was soft as he took her hand. "You know I don't boss you around for fun. The rules are for your safety and mine, and everyone around us. I'm your maker, your creater... You need to listen to me, and obey me. Or there will be consequences."

She nodded, chills rolling down her spine as Zacky told her to stand, rolling up the sleeves of his plaid shirt. Gracie squirmed , sulking as he reached for her. He almost laughed at her pouty expression, maneuvering her between his legs and lowering her over one. Her hands pressed against the floor, hair falling all around her as he carefully balanced her hips on his thigh, fingers lingering at the hem of her skirt before he rolled it up, tucking the edge into the band. 

"Zackkkyyy, please. I'm sorry." She whined, squirming on his knee. All that earned her was the first stinging spank on her white panties, his large hand coming down across both of her creamy cheeks.

"That ain't gonna work on me, doll. I told you I was gonna spank you, and I'm gonna do it. Maybe next time you'll fuckin' listen, then I won't have to spank your butt again." He said, rubbing his rough hand over her two fleshy globes. He loved her ass; it was perfect. Round and fleshy but not flabby or fat, just the right amount of jiggle. He couldn't wait to see it painted with his hand prints.

Smirking to himself, he put his hand on her back and assaulted her ass with punishing, burning smacks. The firt few landed right in the centre of her cheeks, smacking the seat of her bottom until she squirmed and whined, and then he put his whole arm into the swing, spanking her cheeks one at a time in a loud, fast rhythm. The house filled with the sound, resonating with the smack! Smack! Smack!of the rhythm guitarist teachinghis naughty vampling a lesson in obedience.. 

It only took ten swats for her to start whining and by the time he got to twenty, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Each swat burned her bum, leaving a lingering fire. It was like she'd sat her butt down on a hot element, the burning only intensifying with each smack. The last time he had spanked her hadn't been this hard or long, his calloused hand showed no sign of reluctance as it spanked her whole bottom hard. "Zaaack, it hurts!" She whined loudly, sniffling through her tears.

He was unphased by her whining, but he did stop his assault of her behind. He was panting, rubbing his hand over her hot bum. It was coloured a deep pink now, his finger prints showing on her skin. It had been creamy white when he started, now rosy and hot to the touch. Gracie squirmed on his knee, whining loudly.

"Shush. Not done yet." That elicited a noisy cry, but not as loud as the one that came when he looped his fingers in her cotton panties and tugged them down around her knees.

"Zack, no! Please, no. I'm sorry, really! Don't spank my bare bum, please!" She wailed, her hands flying back to cover her bottom. Her face flushed red with shame at the notion that he could see all of her splayed out for him over his knee, all of her private places. Her little pink bum in the air, legs pushed apart so he could see her pretty cunt.

"Get your hands back." He spanked her thigh hard and she jumped, pulling them away. Gracie whined his name loudly and he snorted, hand resting on one hot cheek. "It's not like I've never seen a pussy before, Grace."

She wanted to remind him he'd never seen her pussy before, but thought better of it. At least he wasn't spanking her right now.

Her reprieve was only temporary, however. He stroked her bottom for a moment and then te sensation changed, something smooth and hard rubbing against her rear. She twisted around, realizing with a sinking feeling that he was rubbing her bottom with her hairbrush. Her lip quivered, letting out another whimper.

"Shush, Gracie. You were a bad girl, bad girls get spankings." Zacky said without a hint of sympathy, punctuating his point with a volley of hard, painful smacks. Little red circles began to form on her naked bottom, burning worse than anything he had laid on her before. She keened, squirming and kicking on his leg. His hand pushed down on her back hard, trapping her legs with his. Seemingly undeterred by her wailing, he spanked her soundly with the brush. He didn't count them, simply brought it down hard on her bare bum until it was painted cherry red and her cries came loud after every spank. Tears streamed down her face, now the same colour as her bum in embarrassment.

Suddenly the barrage of pain stopped and she heard the soft thump of the brush being thrown on the bed. Her ass burned like it had never burned before. She'd never experienced a punishment like that, not ever. Her bottom felt like a fire and not even his rubbing could put it out. Her legs were spread wide now as if she had forgotten her sex was on display for him, tears falling in earnest as she tried to get ahold of herself. His hand rubbed slow circles over her red bottom, suddenly gentle rather than punitive.

"Are you gonna be a bad girl again, Gracie?" He asked quietly.

She shook her head, sniffling. "No, sir."

"Good." His voice was gentle now as he guided her to her feet. She had kicked off her panties and stood before him, furiously trying to rub the pain out of her bum. 

His hands reached to wrap around her, pulling her down to sit on his lap. He shifted his legs so her punished bum didn't have to press against anything, cradling her close as he brushed her curls back from her hair. "I love you, baby girl." He murmured. She whimpered and he held her against his chest, his chin resting on her head.

Her crying quickly slowed to a whine. He wasn't mad at her anymore, and that was what she wanted the most. She wanted his forgiveness and she was finally off the hook. She'd never tell him that her punishment had left her feeling slick between her thighs in addition to the pain and shame. His lips hungrily kissed her salty cheeks, the metal of his lip rings pressing against her skin.

His eyes were glazed when he pulled her face away, holding it in his hands. "You wanna sleep in my bed today, Gracie?" He asked, his voice a familiar valley lisp. She felt the butterflies start up again, but for a different reason this time. She nodded softly; maybe she could play up her need for sympathy. He didn't seem to regret punishing her, but he was soft now, like he had used up all his hardness for the day. His hand rubbed her back and slid beneath her, rubbing her cherry coloured cheeks.

She let her cheek rest against his shoulder and he squeezed her tight. "Put your panties back on, I wanna watch Game of Thrones before the sun comes up." He patted her leg, waiting until she stood to head to the den, giving her some privacy to rub her bottom and feel properly ashamed and sorry.

When he was gone, she didn't know what to do with the stinging of her bottom or the sticky, wet mess between her legs.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gracie is confused about her feelings for Zacky and manages to behave herself for once.

The stinging of her bottom and the tingling between her legs felt like they would never stop hurting. She had tugged her panties back up and washed off her face, but it didn't do anything to quell her discomfort. She wanted to skip watching tv altogether and go to sleep with Zacky. Even though he was the cause of all her pain, maybe he could alleviate at least one of them.

Their exchange had left her feeling somewhat confused about her maker. A strange tension seemed to have appeared, sexual and unlike anything she had ever felt before. Perhaps it was due to the fact that vampires were inherently sexual, but she didn't know she could feel this tug so strongly about someone who made her so angry.

She tugged on her nightshirt, the one that only fell to the top of her thigh. The smattering of his fingerprints snaked down her thigh below the hem, and when she raised her arms, the hot red circles from the brush could be seen on her round rump. Perhaps he would feel a little guilt for it...maybe it would cause him the same between-the-thighs discomfort it cause her.

She looked in the mirror for a long moment, taking a deep breath. Something was a little awkward about going to sit with him after their previous exchange, with all that he had seen and done. Gracie gave her bottom one last tentative rub before she crept downstairs to the living room.

\- - - - -

Zacky was feeling quite satisfied with himself. As soon as he closed the door to Gracie's bedroom, he couldn't help but smirk to himself and mentally pat himself on the back. She had been less angry than he thought she would be- Gracie seemed to lack any sort of shame or guilt sometimes, but this time he had won, he had seen something in her eyes he hadn't seen there before. Maybe from now on, she would behave herself.

Perhaps he had finally spanked the bratty attitude out of her. That was probably just wishful thinking, but the way she had looked at him when he cradled her in his arms had been so contrite, and filled with an emotion he couldn't quite place. If she thought he hadn't noticed the slickness between her legs, she was wrong. Lust was something only heightened by vampirism, and he could smell it on her even before he saw how wet her inner thighs had become. It had spurred a rather strong pang of affection for the girl who had been kicking and whining over his knee, as well as a rather uncomfortable tightness in his own jeans. The smell and sight of her arousal coupled with her red ass jiggling, marked with his handprints, made it impossible not to get hard.

Shaking the thought from his head, he heated a cup of blood in the microwave and settled himself on the sofa, the dogs curled up on the floor. Zacky thought maybe Gracie would need a little more time to settle herself and re-gather her dignity, but he had hardly settled in when he saw her face peek apprehensively around the doorframe, tongue flicking over her fangs. He immediately noticed her lack of pants and grinned in spite of himself. "C'mere, doll." He beckoned.

She hesitated, tugging awkwardly on her short nightgown as if trying to over all the legs she exposed. Slowly she came over, perching herself on the edge of the couch. She shifted again and again, trying to find a position where her ass didn't feel like it was on fire and finally settled on a spot. He snorted at her shifting dance and she scowled, huffing. "It hurts, Zacky!" She whined, lower lip pushing out in a sulk.

"I know it does, baby doll, that's kind of the point." He nodded, cupping her face in his hand. Her sulk intensified, her lip pushing out so absurdly that he couldn't help but laugh as he trailed his thumb over her lip. "You can sulk all day if you want, I don't care. You aren't gonna guilt me." He shrugged. She laid her head down on his lap and sighed, allowing him to brush her hair back from her face. No matter how much of a little brat she was, his affection for her would never fade. Even if he did need to get a little harsh sometimes.

\- - - - - -

Zacky insisted on watching two full episodes of Game of Thrones while Gracie struggled to find a comfortable poison and get her mind off of sharing a bed with him when the sun began to rise. Her mind wandered and she thought about whether or not the discomfort between her legs had been mirrored in his. She found herself staring more than once, biting her lip until her fang nearly pierced right through. 

Finally, after what seemed like a hundred years, Zacky turned the tv off and looked at her with those green eyes she was so in love with. They were so soft now, none of the anger and disappointment he'd had before. "I can feel the sun coming. Let's go to bed." He nodded. She had yet to develop the ability to feel the day coming the way he did. They always kept the curtains pulled shut, so no hint of light could burn them. Vampirism was a life of night and darkness, and she loved it, even if it did take a little bit of getting used to.

She scurried up to his bedroom with him following close behind. She felt his eyes on her back, on her butt when she walked up the stairs. His bedroom was beside hers, filled with a huge four-poster bed and a desk. His guitars were on the walls, his bedspread a rich red colour. The whole room had a gothic feeling, but she found it comforting. She curled up on her stomach, resting her cheek on the pillow as he dropped his pants, piling his jeans and shirt in the corner. Gracie stared at him with wide eyes as he brushed his teeth. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him, even as he rinsed his mouth and climbed on the bed.

He slid under the covers and eyed her closely. “C’mere.” he said, peeling the blankets back. When he had first brought her here, she had thought he was going to show her a coffin he slept in. The bed was a nice upgrade. Gracie felt a little tremble in her belly, but she climbed into the bed, nestling in amongst the blankets. She wasn’t sure what he expected or what she should do. She had always felt very possessive of her maker-- it made her angry when she saw other girls fawning over him and asking for his autograph, as if he owed them anything. She hated sitting in the bus or at home waiting for him. She knew he’d slept with hordes of other women-- as a rockstar and even in his life before-- and the thought made her blood boil. She wanted him to herself. They didnt know him like she did, they didn’t know what he was like and what he was. She did. And she forgave him for everything he ever did, even if it hurt her. Her ass still throbbed but she knew she deserved what she got, and as upset as she was, she didn’t hate him. Her heart felt heavy and confused. Why did everything have to be so goddamn confusing?

Zacky slid close to her under the covers, his hand gliding over her. It stroked her hair back and then slid down her back, rubbing over her thighs. He smelled like blood and cologne and a little like sweat and beer from the show earlier. She wanted to stamp her foot and demand that he be hers forever, screw all his fangirls, but she knew he didn’t like it when she demanded things.She edged over until her face was against his chest, just breathing in his scent. “Zacky?” Her voice was lazy and soft.

“Yeah, babe?” His lips were warm against her forehead. 

“Do you love me? Really?” 

She had lived with him for a year, now. He had killed her and given her life all over again, and brought her here. He could be warm, but she knew she pushed him sometimes. He got impatient and angry with her often, but he seemed to always come back to warmth. He never stayed mad for more than a few days. She knew she was his fledging, his creation and obviously that spurred some affection, but she wanted to know, once and for all.

Zacky snorted at her, his hand squeezing her thigh. “Yeah, Gracie. Of course. You fuckin’ piss me off sometimes, but I love you. When you behave yourself.”

She scrunched up her face at him, burying into his chest. her whole body felt like it was on edge; she was thrumming, her cunt aching still, her ass burning, but she still wanted him to hold her. Usually when he was mad at her, she was mad right back at him. He punished her and she pouted about it for weeks and weeks and was difficult, refused to cow to his demands and generally made things worse. Sometimes she liked to get him good and mad.

Zacky looked at her with tired eyes. “Be a good girl, and I’ll bring you to a show tomorrow. We’re going to drive down to San Diego.”

She slid her leg in between his, nodding quietly. “I think I can be a good girl for a day.” She nodded.

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck. I hope so. My hand is gonna get fuckin’ tired.” He smirked, gripping her ass. She squealed and he laughed, shifting his hand up her back. “Go to sleep, Doll. The sun’s already up.”

She slept on her stomach, face buried into Zacky’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! New chapter coming this week, hopefully!


	3. Dead Hearts Beating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gracie and Zacky have it out and connect in a new way.

By the time the show was over, Zacky was friskier (and drunker) than she had seen him in months. He came off stage slicked with sweat, a grin so big she could see his fangs from the crowd. Matt stood on the speakers, microphone in hand. "Goodnight, San Diego!" He yelled, and Zacky paused to wave again at the sea of screaming people, hefting his guitar above his head. Gracie waited a moment until the room went black before she ducked around, flashing her backstage pass to a security guard.

"Gracie!" Zacky roared, crushing her in a too-tight hug. She could smell the whiskey on his breath, mingled with sweat and smoke. Brian and Johnny were wrestling behind him, Matt sparking a cigarette with Jimmy. She could tell they were all drunk, but not quite as much as Zacky. 

Grace smiled at him. "You were great, Zee." She said. He had been in a really good mood the last week, anything she asked he agreed to, he didn't seem as on edge as he had before.

Zack scrunched his nose at the pet name, glancing over his shoulder at the guys. "Let's get outta here." He said, eyeing her seriously. "I wanna take you hunting."

Gracie narrowed her eyes at him. "Hunting?" He had never let her hunt before. Much to her annoyance, he had stocked the fridge with blood and made her drink that-- she wasn't allowed to go with him when he hunted. At first she had thrown a fit so loud the neighbours heard. She knew that he tended to feed on animals rather than humans --it aroused too much suspicion-- but she suspected he was still feeding on girls, then. Vampires were gifted with the ability to charm and seduce, to make people bend to their will and forget they had ever been bitten. It was a skill earned with time, however, and she couldn't yet use it. Zack could, though. Sometimes she thought that was why he left her at home. The thought of his mouth on another girl's throat made her skin crawl.

"I get to come this time?!" She knew he was drunk-- she should take him home and let him sleep it off, but the night was thick and wam and perfect. She wasn't ready to go home yet, and she really, really wanted to go.

Zacky nodded. "Yeah. I think it's time you learned."

"Here?" She asked. There were hundreds of people... It would be easy. 

"No." He snorted, shaking his head. "We'll drive to the cabin."

She eyed him, frowning. She wanted blood now, human blood. It carried a buzz like no other. The cabin was good but she didn't want to hunt some stupid deer, she wanted real blood, people blood. "Zacky, I want to hunt for real." She whined, tugging on his shirt.

"No. C'mon, doll. It'll be fun. You drive." He pushed his keys into her hands.

Well, that changed things. Zacky's car was nice... He had a few he drove, the one he had taken tonight was a '67 impala. She'd been itching to drive that thing since she'd laid eyes on it. And now... He was just handing her the keys. She didn't have to beg or scream or stamp her feet. "Cabin it is." She smirked. 

"Get the car and drive it around. I gotta sign some autographs." He nodded, waving at Matt. 

She frowned at the thought-- she wanted to be there holding his hand when he signed autographs and talked to fans. That way they would know that he belonged to her, he wasn't going home with them. Not even to suck their blood. She cowed to his commands, though...his impala was a stunning car and the keys were heavy in her hands. She watched his back until he turned a corner, stumbling slightly, then she hurried out to the car.

The rumble it gave when she turned the key made her belly quiver. Her stomach flipped with excitement as she turned up the music, pulling the car around to the back door to wait. He always dragged his feet when he was meeting people...sometimes he only left because Matt made him. He was a sucker for his fans.

Gracie had almost dozed off by the time she saw Zacky coming 20 minutes later...with two girls with him. One held each of his arms, chatting animatedly. Both wore Avenged shirts, leaning in close to him as he staggered to the car. Gracie felt her heart tighten in her chest. If it still beat, it surely would have stopped then. Her stomach toiled with a brew of jealousy, anger and revulsion. It churned so violently she thought she might puke as she rolled the window down and clutched the wheel, staring straight ahead so she didn't have to look at him.

The girls laughed, though seemed to be less amused when they saw Gracie in the car. "We were just makin' sure he had a sober ride." One of them said, and Gracie was sure she sensed a snippy attitude about her. Zacky tugged his arms away from the girls, giving them a winning grin.

"Goodnight, ladies." He slurred, waving as he slid into the car. Gracie didn't even wait for him to do up his seatbelt before she slammed on the gas, leaving his arm-candy in a puff of exhaust.

"Jesus, what pissed in your cereal?" Zacky grumbled, looking in the rear view mirror.

"Goodnight laaaadies." She imitated, scowling at him. "What the fuck, Zacky? I was waiting for you! Fuck, am I chopped liver to your fucking arm candy? You wanna bring one of those groupie whores home, cause I can turn around and give one of them the fucking keys to drive your stupid ass home."

His voice cut her off, suddenly deep and sharp. "Don't fucking snark me, Grace. I'm still your maker and you know better."

She sulked. Of course he was still ready to discipline her, even when it was him who should be apologizing. He wasn't going to get an apology from her, that was for sure.

The silence was so thick she swore she could have scooped a handful. He looked out the window and she drove on in the dark, winding down the wooded road to the cabin. She hoped he was feeling guilty. She didn't care it she hurt his feelings; she hoped it hurt him how it had hurt her.

\- - - - - -

Zack wasn't quite sure what he should say to break the tension in the car. His brain was fuzzy with liquor and he couldn't quite make sense of what he should say. He was a little more sober now, but still not enough to know how to handle this.

He had never been a maker before and he wasn't sure how to tread this line. He was her creator and she should be obedient to him... But he had hurt her. He could see it on her face, and the white-knuckled grip she had on the steering wheel. The way her breath came sharply and the corners of her mouth kept tugging down.

He would demand her respect. But he was sorry he had hurt her. The realization that her feelings had been hurt brought a strange mix of emotions in him he had never felt before. Gracie belonged to him, and he didn't want to see her hurt-- he hadn't thought her jealousy would be so intense. The connection to his vampling had grown strong. She annoyed him all the time, so much so that sometimes he could hardly stand to be in the same room as her. She could be argumentative and rude and was certainly in need of rules and discipline. But he loved her. If his heart were alive, it would be for Gracie. Disobedient, sassy, bratty Grace.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Gracie." His voice was low and earnest, his eyes focusing slowly on her. He was so fuzzy that his feelings were mingled, he wasn't sure how or what to feel, but his chest was both warm and hard at the same time. Embarrassed and full of desire to touch her.

Her face softened. She peered at him, taking her eyes off the road for a moment. "Would you have taken them home, Zack?" She asked, frowning.

"No. I haven't fucked another woman for months."

Her mouth opened in confusion. "Why not?"

He looked out the window, running his hands through his sweaty hair as she pulled into the cabin and turned off the ignition. "I didn't wanna hurt you, Grace. You're a pain in my ass, but I love you. I knew it would hurt you if I brought another woman home. So I stopped."

It felt like an hour before she turned towards him, an expression on her face that made his heart feel like maybe it could start beating again. She didn't say anything to him; just slid her hand around to the back of his neck and kissed him deeply, smearing her lipstick on his mouth as her tongue probed past his lips, tasting the tangy liquor and the cool piercings against her mouth.

\- - - - -

They could have gone inside but he was too drunk and eager to taste her. Her hands gripped his hair as he slid her hips toward him, laying her on her back across the seat. Thank god for bench seats.

He tugged her panties down mouth still locked with hers. The hunger between them was suddenly insatiable. Make up sex and first time sex all rolled into one, he had barely tugged her panties down when she was reaching for him, clambering to grip the seats so she could unzip his pants. His neck tasted salty against her lips, his groans loud in her ears as she pushed his pants and underwear around his thighs, grasping his ass with both hands.

He let out a low chuckle as his fingers trailed between her legs, teasing. "I bet you've been waiting to get your hands on my ass, huh?" He laughed against her neck, getting up on his knees to drag her hips across the seat,

"I hate you." She snorted, but laughed anyways. She felt her face flush with nerves, colouring deeper when she remembered that he had seen a lot of her on display before, over his knee with her bottom in the air.

"Hate me?" He snorted, shaking his head. Hell, she could never hate him when he looked at her like that. He stroked her softly, shifting his fingers between her thighs until he had her squirming and moaning with just a flick. "I don't think you hate me."

She slid her legs around his hips, latching onto him. He didn't need to be told twice; gripping her hips in his hands, he thrusted deep inside her, groaning at the sudden tightness. This had bee building up so long, the feeling of her was amazing. She pushed her hips up into him, eager for his touch.

The impala rocked back and forth in the moonlight until the sun threatened to rise on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been typing chapters on my phone (and let me tell you, it's a bitch to type and edit) but my new computer should be coming in the next week which hopefully will mean more frequent chapters!


	4. Vampire Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vampire council comes to a party at Zack's house and Grace has trouble behaving herself.

Grace hated it when Zack had people over. Especially when it was important people. He had lectured her before people began arriving-- blah blah blah, he expected her to be on her best behavior, blah blah blah, something about impending consequences if she embarrassed him. These people were, evidently, important. It was the fanciest party she think she'd ever seen him throw. Rather than a bunch of metalhead dudes wearing band shirts and jeans, it was fancy-looking people sipping blood from wine glasses. He was wearing a fucking suit. She'd never seen him in a suit before! He'd done his hair, too. She'd thought he'd be all up in her business, choosing clothes for her to wear so she wasn't embarrassing, but he hadn't said anything. Maybe he was hoping she would just stay quietly in her room away from all the vampires milling around downstairs who seemed much older and much more important than her. Well, he wasn't going to get his wish. She was going to come down, and maybe be nice. Especially since she knew Matt was down there, and probably everyone else too. Even though she wasn't pleased about this whole deal, she'd followed his wishes. She chose a pretty, but reasonably conservative dress, she made herself up and she curled her hair. She could hear the soft music from downstairs-- Bach, it sounded like-- and people talking and laughing.

She had a brief tingle in her belly, peeking around the doorframe. It was mostly men, all dressed in suits or other dressy clothes. One or two of them she recognized from the other vampire-y places that Zack had brought her to-- like the bar that was exclusively for the undead. The house felt weird. Filled with the wrong music, the wrong people. Any given day, Zack and Matt were usually playing Call of Duty in their boxer shorts, drinking beer, getting stoned. The rest of the band was around a lot, this...this was so stiff, so artificial. She hated it right away. Heads turned to her and she felt like she had a target on her back. Maybe Zack had been telling them mean things about her, because it seemed like eyes flickered to her even as she tried to shrink herself against the wall, pouring the contents of a bag of O negative into a wine glass.

When she saw Zack, she was relieved to see Matt and Johnny beside him. The cluster of men and women around them she didn't know, but at least the three faces she recognized were friendly. Nervously, she peered around her and waited until the crowd parted enough for her to slip in next to Zack. He glanced down at her, his eyes wide but his grin warm. She grasped his hand needily, squeezing it as if to prevent him from pulling away.

"Is this Grace?" A man examined her closely, swilling the blood in his glass. He stepped close to her, Zack's hand dragging her forward so she couldn't shy away. "She's lovely. How many years now?"

Zack's hand moved to her lower back, anchoring her there. She hated him. "This is Grace. She's coming up on two now."

"Ah. Terrible twos." The two men laughed and Grace seethed. She was not a child, she was a grown woman and she hated both of them with a fiery passion. Matt stood behind the new man, looking as if he might laugh out loud at the sulky expression on her face. Jerk. She glared at him, too. "Feisty. She'll grow to be useful." The man nodded, grinning at her.

"I'm useful already." She murmured. Zack's eyes flashed, though it was a look meant only for her as his hand slid down to her ass, squeezing it hard enough to remind her of his earlier threat. She gave him a sidelong glare, but did her best to plaster the best smile on her face that she could manage. "Sorry."

This time Matt did laugh, covering his mouth to stifle the chuckle and the man snorted as well. Zack's face flushed a deep pink, his hand squeezing her again. "She doesn't understand the hierarchy yet...but she's going to learn." She didn't need him to outline that he was going to learn her butt after everyone went home. "This is Joshua, Grace. And he's the president of the Vampire council for the US. He's also a friend of my maker." Grace's face felt suddenly hot-- not only did Zack look embarrassed and a little pissed, but she'd sassed off on some totally other level she hadn't even known about.

"N-nice to meet you." She murmured, holding her hand out politely. The man kissed it, sending tingles and an even deeper flush up her cheeks.

"She's a pretty little thing, Zack. Don't be too hard on her." He winked, patting Zack's shoulder before he slid off into the crowd, greeting someone new.

She peered at her maker apprehensively. "Yeah Zack...don't be too hard on me." She tried, lower lip jutting out. "I'm pretty."

"Nice try. Jesus fuck, you're the most disobedient fucking creature." he looked at Matt in exasperation, brows knitting together. "You can fucking deal with her attitude if you think it's so goddamn funny. Just wait till your fuckin' fledgling starts being a sassy little pain."

Matt tried not to grin, his mouth twitching against his will. Grace turned to eye him, curious now. "You have a fledgling? When'd you make her? Can I meet her?"

Zack sighed, shaking his head as Matt nodded slowly. "She's only a week in. Fresh. Still needs some adjustment time, but she likes it so far. I don't know if she's as...spirited...as Grace."

"Thank fucking God for that," Zack frowned. He looked around the room, eyeing Grace closely. "I'll be back. You stay with Matt or me, or go up to your room. And don't fuckin' say anything unless someone asks you a question. Speak when spoken to, be seen and not heard, you know." She watched his eyes stray down her dress, lingering on the curls in her hair and her hem brushing her thigh. "Behave." He reminded, and disappeared into the crowd.

Grace sighed, resting against Matt's side. "He's so mad." She groaned, sipping her drink.

Matt snorted, laying his hand on her back. "Yeah, he's gonna spank the living fuck out of you. It was pretty funny though."

Grace whipped around to stare at him in abject horror, her stomach dropping like a stone. "He fucking told you? He told you about that?! What the fuck!" The wave of shame that washed over her was hot and heavy, her cheeks so red she was sure that she could have burnt someone at a touch.

Her friend simply looked bemused, as if the subject of her impending punishment wouldn't have shamed her into an early grave were she not already dead. "Zack tells me everything, babe. And even if he didn't, I'd know. Now, shush up before he comes back over here and decides to do it in front of all these people. Besides, he's under some stress right now, there's some...stuff going on that you don't need to know about. Vampire stuff." 

She sulked, face still burning. "I'm a vampire."

"And have been for two years. Patience." She groaned, but plastered her fake-smile back on her face when Zack looked her way.

"I wish he hadn't told you." She murmured, glaring at Zack's back when he turned his head. 

"Don't get your panties in a knot. Come get some wine." he nodded. God, she hated being babysat. He might as well just hold her hand and parade her around, but she was trying very hard now to be on her best behavior. She wouldn't embarrass Zack in front of anyone else. Or he might not take his friend's advice and go easy on her pretty ass.

\- - - - - - -

Even after the party had wound down and everyone had gone home, his anger with her hadn't faded. He waved goodbye to the last person, high fived Matt on his way out and shut the door. Her belly tingled, her lip caught between her teeth. She shifted from foot to foot, unable to settle herself down. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, Zacky.." She murmured. Her voice was soft as she reached out, holding his hand in hers. "I'm really sorry."

He frowned at her. "I don't have time to follow you around trying to keep you in line. I should have disciplined you right there..." he trailed off, sighing and running his hands through his hair. His thoughts were only half on her, and she could tell. Something else bothered him, as if his anger was only half focused around her. "Look, I get it. It's hard, shit happens, you didn't know what was happening or who he was. But I told you to behave, and I'm still giving you a spanking." His eyes were serious as his hands fell to his waist, a jingle piercing the room as he unbuckled his belt.

She stood, rooted to the spot, for what seemed like forever as he drew it out from the loops with a whoosh and doubled it over. "Zack..." She whined, stepping back apprehensively. "Zack, no, please...that thing looks like it's gonna hurt." Her lower lip pushed out, as if she could sway him with sympathy. 

"Go upstairs. Lay on your back on your bed, go on." He frowned, slapping her ass with his palm as he nodded to the stairs. She briefly considered if a good cry might change his mind, but somewhere deep down she knew it wouldn't. So, like an obedient Vampling she did as he said. He followed close behind as she made her way up, laying down on the bed.

He laid the belt down behind her and flipped her skirt up, his hands tender as he pulled her panties down, tossing them aside. "Zack?"

Her voice was apprehensive, a fear in it he'd never quite heard like this. Usually he was met with stubborn defiance. His touch was gentle now, brushing her skirt up further. "I'm not mad. Okay? I'm not. Not at you. I'm still going to punish you, but I'm not angry with you. Okay? I'll tell you everything, I'll tell you what's going on. But not right now. Right now, you need to lay back and learn your lesson about doing as you're told."

She quieted again, scrunching her nose in apprehension as he flipped her legs up, his forearm behind her knees to keep her still. His palm rubbed against her fleshy globes for a moment, caressing her flesh. "I'm going to warm you up with my hand, then I'm going to give you twenty." His voice left no room to argue. he hardly waited before he started in on her, his arm swinging and crashing down. She whined and squirmed with each new blow, painting her pretty bottom a pretty pink. She cringed, her fingers digging into the duvet. 

"Owwwwie!" his swats were even, slow and steady as he painted her bottom slowly pink. It burned and stung all at once, but no amount of wiggling seemed to sway his hands. "I said I was sorry! I'm sorry! I won't do it again, please!" She whimpered, but he was unphased. His hand crashed again and again into her flesh, his fingerprints stretching across her milky skin. When he finally stopped, a shudder of terror rolled through her. The belt jingled as he readjusted it, folding it over. 

"Count them, Grace. I want you to tell me how many, and thank me." he nodded. She glared at him. Her fucking legs were in the air, her ass already red and he wanted her to say thank you. 

The belt whistled through the air, the first smack hitting hard before she was read. "Owww fuck! One, t-thank you." She glared at him resentfully, but it was hard to sulk when he was spanking her with such vigor. It was a snapping sting that she couldn't ignore. She obeyed, for now, counting through her spanks. By the fifth her lip was trembling. By the tenth she was whimpering. By the fifteenth, her eyes watered, liquid soaking the bed. 

"Last three." Zack nodded, pausing to rub her ass. HIs hand felt like ice.

Swish! Smack! "Aaaooowww, eighteen! thank you!"

Smack! Smack! "Fuck, fuck! Nineteen! Twenty! Thank you!"

She was panting now, snuffling as her hands immediately went to cover her bum, rubbing it furiously. Zack tossed the belt on the ground, sitting on the edge of her bed. "C'mere, babydoll."

Grace glared daggers at him. "I don't want to cuddle, Zack. Especially after what you fucking told Matt."

Zack sighed, brushing her hair from her face. "I don't hurt you because I like it, baby. And so what if I told Matt?"

She flushed. "I don't want him to know." In spite of herself, she rolled onto her back, nestling her face against his side. His hand caressed her tenderly, lovingly. 

"You needed to learn your lesson." she couldn't disagree, no matter how angry he made her. 

"What's going on, Zack? What the fuck was that whole thing about?" she asked. He still looked worn, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He was soft now, gentle and lost-looking.

"Vampire politics. We're going to war."


	5. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gracie and Zack make a move.

The air in the house was decidedly tense; had been since the vampire soiree Zack had held. He was grim, frowny. Most of the night he was out of the house, leaving Gracie to her own devices. He left her little notes, reminding her to behave herself, but he didn't come home until just before the sun rose. He was beginning to cut it dangerously close.

Today, though, was an attempt at normalcy. She woke up to the sound of the TV turned up all the way and men's voices laughing. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she pulled her hair up into a messy little bun and pulled on a pair of pajama shorts. She wore Zack's beat in t-shirt, her breasts hidden under loose fabric. Sleepily, she peeked around the doorframe into the bonus room-- sure enough, Zack and Matt were both sitting on the couch, a case of beer in front of them. Call of Duty was on the big screen, guns flashing. It was the most normal she had seen Zack acting in two weeks; for once, he didn't look utterly miserable.

Flashing her fangs in a yawn, Gracie curled up on the couch between Zack and Matt, laying her cheek on Zack's leg. "Good evening, Princess." Matt snorted, slapping at her thigh.

"Dick." She murmured, burying her face into Zack's jeans. "Shouldn't you be at home looking after your own fledgling?" she asked, Zack stroking her cheek.

Matt shrugged. "She's sleeping. The whole day/night thing is a bit of an adjustment. Besides, I don't want Zoe to learn anything from you."

Zack laughed out loud as Grace sulked, crossing her arms huffily. "I hope you're nicer to her than you and Zack are to me." She sulked, lower lip pushed out dramatically.

"She's not nearly as much of a pain in the ass as you." Matt grinned.

Sticking her tongue out at Matt, Grace wriggled herself into Zack's lap, knocking his arms around as she settled. She glanced at the screen, his portion spinning wildly as he adjusted around her until finally his character was shot. "Goddammit, Grace!" Zacky shook his head, shifting so she could lay her cheek against his shoulder.

He seemed more patient lately. Perhaps because he felt bad about having been gone so often, leaving her in his big old house she wasn't allowed to leave without a vampire escort, or because he had been so hard on her the night of the party. She had woken up the next evening to him kissing her head, telling her he was going out and would be back before sunrise. She'd been laying on her belly, naked underneath the fan. A little bruise had formed on the left rounded cheek of her bottom, decidedly belt-shaped, and he had paused, caressing it softly. He hadn't meant to hurt her, and she could nearly feel the wash of shame over him as he caressed her, kissing the little bruise as well before he'd left. She'd hardly seen him for more than ten minutes after that, but it had been awkward. Since then, Zack's patience seemed endless.

Matt shook his head at the two, slapping his hand on Zack's shoulder. "Alright buddy, I need to go check on Zoe. See you later." He tossed his controller down, pausing to stroke the dog before he left.

Zack shook his head, fiddling with the controller as Grace cuddled against him, pulling the blanket from the couch onto her legs. He wrapped her up tight in it, his nose brushing softly against her cheek. "Did the bruise heal up?" He murmured. That was a nice plus about being undead- the bruise had bloomed, purpled and healed in less than two days.

She nodded her head. "Mmmhmm. It's gone." 

What she saw in his green eyes was definitely a sort of remorse. "I'm sorry, Grace. I didn't mean to bruise you. Fuck, I was just bein' an asshole, I shouldn't have punished you at all. Josh wasn't mad, I was just... pissy."

She watched him closely, eyes big and fixed. "I know that. All of that. Especially that you were being an asshole." She smirked, giggling at his frown. "I forgive you. It's alright. Don't worry yourself about it. Shoulda listened to Josh and gone easy on me. I'm pretty, I told you."

Zack snorted, swatting at her thigh. "It's like you want me to spank you." He rolled his eyes, pulling her close. Zack had never considered himself particularly strict; he was lax, liked to drink and smoke weed and play music. He was hardly the type of man that one thought of when they thought of stern, strict disciplinarians. Something in Grace brought that out with him-- probably the fact that she knew exactly how to be really, really annoying. Besides, she was right-- she was pretty, and her ass was round and cute and when she was at the height of one of her naughty tirades or sulky tantrums, the urge to smack it was overwhelming. Partially, it was a desire to punish her for her naughtiness, and partially it was a desire to touch her round ass, watch it juggle and turn pink as he smacked it, watch her wriggle and whine. Maybe he was more of a sadist than he thought.

"Like you need a reason." Grace smirked, her hand sliding down between his legs.

Zack laughed. "You deserve it; that's enough of a reason. Anyways, I need to tell you something." he caught her wandering hand, holding it gently. Grace frowned, intrigued. "We're going to Oregon-- I have a place up there, near Joshua and near my Maker. It's safer up there, for now. Matt's gonna come up too with Zoe and the rest of the boys. You'll like it there." He stroked her hair affectionately, brushing his lips against her cheek. "It rains a lot there-- the place I have set up is in the rainforest, it's really nice. Private. You can run free more. It rains a lot, so you can probably go out in the day. Near the ocean."

Grace crossed her arms, leaning in close. "I don't want to move, Zack. I like my bedroom, I like the beach... I like it here! I want to be able to go to Disneyland and the zoo when it rains, and run on the beach." She sulked, frowning.

"I know, baby. But they're not going anywhere. It's just for a bit, you'll be fine. Promise."

"And when we get there, you'll tell me what the hell is going on?" she murmured.

He nodded. "Promise."

Grace sighed. "I'll go pack my bags."


	6. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gracie meets Zack's maker and finds out he hasn't been entirely honest.

The road trip to Oregon was long and windy. Gracie slept on and off most of the way, spending any time she wasn't snoring with her nose pressed against the window, asking Zack questions about every tree that passed or every town they drove through.

It was nearing the middle of the night by the time they got to Zack's house. Gracie peeled her face off of the window, rubbing her face to look up at the house. It was nestled deep in the forest, big and old looking with a wrap around porch. "It's pretty." She yawned, resting her cheek on his shoulder. "Is it yours?"

Zack nodded. "It used to belong to my maker. Josh is coming, too." he turned, looking at her seriously. "You need to be on your best behavior. Josh might find you charming, but my maker probably won't. You need to try really hard to keep your mouth shut." He narrowed his eyes at her, wagging a finger scoldingly. She didn't need telling twice. 

"You don't talk about your maker very much." She shrugged.

Zack heaved a sigh, rubbing his face. "You'll see why." He murmured, climbing out of the truck. He opened her door for her, offering her a hand down. She stood on the dirt driveway for a long moment, taking in the beauty of the house before she trailed along behind him, tucking herself protectively against his back as he rang the doorbell.

The woman that answered didn't look older than twenty-five. Her hair was long and coal-colored, her petite body tattooed. "Ah, darling." She purred, standing on her tip toes to shower Zack's face with kisses he didn't seem to want. He shot a backward glance at Grace even as the woman squished his face, leaving a red lipstick mark on his cheek.

Grace fought the urge to scowl as the woman smiled warmly at her. "This must be your little pet. Nice to meet you, Gracie. Your maker has told me so much about you." The woman brushed Zack aside to appraise Grace, holding her face in her hand. "Lovely." She purred. "Come inside. I've gotten everything cleaned up for you. Is Matt still coming along? The spare room is ready for him, too." She turned her back, waving them inside as she flounced to the kitchen.

Zack pointedly avoided her gaze, but Grace was sure he could feel her glaring daggers at the back of his head. "Is that your maker?" she hissed, voice rising in pitch. "What the fuck, Zack. You told me your maker was a dude! What the actual fuck, her?"

Zack sighed, brushing his hair back. "I didn't think you would ever have to meet her! Kat is...well, she's Kat. She can be nice, but she can be fucking psycho. Just watch yourself; sadism is her specialty." He kicked off his shoes, pretending that Grace didn't want to strangle him as he followed Kat into the kitchen.

What was once an old-fashioned southern style kitchen now looked like a war general's office. The table was covered in maps and papers, a steaming mug of A positive sitting on a coaster. Kat slid into one of the chairs, gesturing towards the coffee maker. "Blood's hot. You must be tired from your drive." She watched Grace like a lion might an antelope, licking her cherry lips.

Zack poured a cup for himself and a cup for Grace, sitting across from his maker. Kat smiled sweetly. "You haven't been keeping in touch, pet. Not since this one hit her year mark."

His face betrayed his guilt as he looked down into his cup, shrugging. "I've been busy. She keeps me busy."

Kat didn't seem to like his answer, but she accepted it, brushing the papers towards him across the table as Grace shifted, uncomfortable between Kat and Zack. "Well. I trust you're training her proper, as you should." Kat's eyes scrutinized Grace closely as she squirmed in her seat. "She seems good. Well-disciplined." Grace's face flushed heavily, bringing a grin of satisfaction to Kat's face. "Good boy. You learned well."

Now it was Zack's turn to squirm in his seat, but Kat seemed not to notice, sliding him a map. "This is what the set up is right now. They think there's going to be a lot of rioting but we won't know until next week. It seems pretty safe here, we won't know for sure what's going to happen. Josh went home for the night but he has his own ideas. We'll go over them tomorrow. He has some thoughts he wants to share with you."

Grace was struggling to keep her face neutral, but this whole situation made her annoyed. Zack had wiped Kat's kiss off his face, but the red smear was still there, and besides, he had lied to her. If she'd lied to him, he would have painted her ass ten shades of red, but somehow, it was different when he did it. He was forgiven. It was taking everything in her not to glare at Kat, but she didn't think that would get her anywhere. Besides, Zack had called her a sadist. She didn't know what that meant, really, or how the small, pretty woman could be a sadist, but she kept it to herself. Still, if he thought she was going to be putting her mouth anywhere near his lipstick-stained face, he was crazy.

Kat seemed more interested in Zack than in the stack of papers piled on the table. She slid closer, touching his hand. It twitched, but she caught it up in her fingers before he could pull it away from her. "If you ever go so long without visiting me again, I won't be so nice. I want to know what you're up to, I want to meet your fledgling." She squeezed his hand, looking at Grace now. "Has he taken you hunting yet?"

Zack scowled, mouth halfway open before Grace interrupted. "No, ma'am. Not yet."

"No ma'am. I like that." Kat purred, her eyes sliding to Zack. "No hunt yet? She's two, Zack, not fresh anymore. You should take her."

"I don't think she's ready yet-- Kat, she..."

Kat shook her head, silencing him. "You need to give her room. Times are dire and she's no use to us if she can't hunt."

"Kat, I-"

"Tomorrow, Zack."

Grace grinned, even as Zack cut her a glare that could burn through steel. "Yes, ma'am." He growled. Something about seeing Zack, the one who was always so quick to punish her for her misdoings, being scolded or bossed around was thrilling. She was starting to like Kat a little more; it seemed she was more interested in bossing Zack around than she was making love to him, which put Grace at ease. She smirked at Zack, brushing her hair back in satisfaction.

"Good." Kat nodded, gathering some of the papers off the table. She stacked them neatly, piling them in the center as Zack got up, offering Grace his hand.

"I think we're going to sleep. Long night." He murmured, watching Kat closely.

Kat nodded. "Of course. I'll see you in the morning, loves." She said, gathering her mug of blood in her hands.

Zack placed a firm hand on Grace's shoulder, half-shoving her out of the kitchen. Grace watched him, scurrying up the stairs as she was nudged along. "What was that? Why didn't you want me to meet her? I like her."

Zack's eyebrows pulled together. "She's fine. You'll see later. I just...don't see her much these days. She can be a bit of a handful when she wants to be." He sighed. "She's just Kat. That's all. And Kat does what Kat wants, and everyone else better get out of the way or be trampled."

He pulled open the door to the bedroom, nodding. "Go on, we'll have to sleep together. Matt and Zoe and Kat will take up the other two rooms." He said.

Grace hopped in, and was about to flop on the bed when she saw a strange object on it. It was long and thin, curved at one end. Springy. It was with a dawning of horror that she realized it was a cane.

She whirled on him, pressing her bottom against the wall protectively. "Is that yours?" she asked, eyes wide. "You're not going to use that on me, are you?" Her voice trembled, but Zack seemed genuinely surprised for a moment.

"What? Is what..." He stopped, staring at the object for a long moment. "Fucking asshole." He groaned, picking up the cane. He gave it an experimental flick, frowning as it cut through the air. "No, it's not mine. And no, I'm not going to use it on you. It's Kat's." he leaned the weapon against the wall, flopping down on the bed.

Grace watched it apprehensively, tentatively joining Zack on the king sized bed that took up most of the room. She stared at it for a long moment and then down at Zack, resting her cheek on his stomach. "Why is it here?"

Zack groaned, his hand resting on her hair. "She's proving a point. Don't mind her. She likes to be in charge, like I said."

Grace watched him quietly, her fingers marching slowly up his chest to trace his tattoos in slow, lazy circles. "Did she hit you with it, Zack?"

He was looking straight at the ceiling, pointedly not at her. "Yes. And if you keep asking questions, you're next."

This idea filled Grace with a strange little storm. She was strangely delighted at the idea of somebody punishing him as he had punished her, and was filled with a perverse desire to watch Kat punish him. Still though, she felt a sort of sympathy. She'd felt it, she didn't want to see someone she loved and respected hurt. It was really a strange little storm. The object watched her menacingly as she nestled against him, her curiosity mounting.

"Go to sleep, Grace. Just leave it alone. I'll tell you about Kat when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay." She murmured. She watched him until he went to sleep and then closed her eyes, the little storm inside her blooming into dreams.


	7. I Like it Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack takes Gracie hunting as per Kat's orders and things don't go as planned.

Grace didn't even give Zack a chance to open his eyes before she had rolled on top of him, bouncing up and down on the bed. "Zacky, wake up. You're taking me hunting tonight! You proooomised!" she sang, rolling off the bed. She gave a little hop, pulling her clothes on quickly as Zack groaned and pulled the blankets up over his head. 

"Fuck off Grace, it's barely even dark. Jesus christ, lay down for a bit."

Grace was having none of it, tugging on her tights and hoodie and perching on the edge of the bed. "Zack, c'moooon. I'm hungry. Please. You promised. You said you would."

He groaned, glaring at her as he rolled out of bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I fucking hate you, Kat." he murmured. He shot a glare at Grace, but got up anyways, tossing his pajama pants into a pile as he yanked on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. "Let's get this shit over with."

Grace scurried down the hall ahead of him, tugging on her shoes. Zack lumbered down more slowly, glancing in the living room at Kat, who had curled up with a book and a mug of blood. She glanced up at him, and at Grace eagerly cramming her feet into her shoes. "Taking your pet hunting, darling?"

Grace resented being called Zack's pet. Like he might put her on a leash and take her for a walk. Still, right now she was too worked up to be mad and to be honest, Kat scared her more than a little bit. If the older vampire seemed so nice but it was a sticky, sweet sort of nice. A terrifying sort of nice, especially now that she knew what she was capable of. She had dreamed of the curved, thin piece of wood the night before. She didn't want to know how it felt. The chill she felt when it swished through the air was enough.

Zack shuffled into his shoes, pulling his jacket on. "Yeah, we're gonna go for a hunt. We'll be back in an hour or so." He said, helping Grace into her jacket. He pulled a hat down over her head and held the door open, motioning her out.

Grace tromped out the door, jumping down the steps and into one of the big puddles that had accumulated. Zack rolled his eyes, closing the door behind him. "You're gonna scare everything away if you keep making noise." He rolled his eyes, jumping down after her. "Let's go this way. Watch your step. There's usually a bunch of deer down by the river, you can practice there."

Grace huffed, following along in Zack's footsteps in the mud. "Deer? Do they taste good?"

Zack snorted. "Fuck no. But you need to learn control before you move up. Be patient, padawan."

She pouted, but hopped along anyways, tracing along the path. It seemed like a long walk in the dark, especially since Zack kept stopping and telling her to be quiet, to stop talking, to watch where she stepped, and to stop breathing so fucking loud. After a long hike away from the house, she could hear the stream rushing by the path.

"Be quiet. And slow. We smell different to humans, more predatory, so if they scent you or you scare them, they'll bolt. Slow. Listen. You can hear them down there if you listen real hard. I want you to sit and watch them, know where they are and then pounce. You can outrun them if you go hard, so you'll need to do it all at once. See them. Run them down and kill them." He looked at her closely, as if appraising her worth and then shifted closer, squatting behind a bush and motioning for her to move up.

There were three deer. A buck and two does, nibbling on the grass and lapping at the water. They were close, ears twitching back and forth but they seemed calm. Zack watched them closely with her, his hair wet with the soft rain.

"Okay, Grace. On one, tw-"

She was gone. He had barely begun the countdown when she was sprinting across the stream, running full out after the buck that had sprinted off equally fast. "Ah, fuck," Zack swore, taking off after her.

They twisted through trees and ferns, Zack still a good twenty feet behind her as she ran, water pelting her face. The deer was so close she could smell it, taste it on her lips. She wanted it so badly and yet she couldn't quite grab it, it was just barely out of her reach. It's eyes were wild, breath frantic as it dodged her, shifting through trees and wood.

Then she smelled something that made her stop in her tracks. It was a scent she hadn't smelled anywhere before. The deer ran, far out of sight as soon as it could, but Grace stood still, her eyes fixed closely on something else.

"Jesus christ Grace, you were supposed to wait for me! What the hell did I say about listening? Fuck." Zack panted, grabbing her by the arm to prevent her escape, but she wasn't listening. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth salivating as she looked at something off to the left.

Then he smelled it. His grip tightened on her as he followed her gaze to the house nestled in the trees. A little white house with a coil of smoke coming up the chimney. A person sat by a campfire, roasting marshmallows over the open flame. Grace panted, straining against Zack's grip. "Leave it, Grace. We need to go back." He yanked at her arm, put she pulled back, struggling to pull her arm free.

"She smells so good. So good." Grace pulled, squirming in his grip until he grabbed her with both arms, dragging her back through the dirt. She kicked and struggled, pushing against him as he pulled. 

"Fucking leave it, Grace! Snap out of it!" He grabbed at her arm, but she was too quick. She sank her fangs deep into his hand and he let go with a howl of pain. That was all she needed; she took off as fast as she could, legs moving nimbly through the underbrush as Zack snarled behind her.

She didn't get quite far enough to run outright on the grass before something grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back. She squealed, the person's head whipping around to survey the dark. "Is anyone there?" they called out, standing.

"Shut the fuck up. Don't make another fucking noise." Zack hissed, his hand covering her mouth. She squirmed in his grasp, but he has a good hold on her this time. Binding her tightly in his arms, he pulled her back slowly, waiting until the person near the fire had sat back down before he dragged her unceremoniously as quickly as he could. 

He only took his hand off her mouth when they reached the stream, even though she had stopped struggling as soon as the scent of human was out of her range. He let her go, dropping her in a heap in the mud as he bent to wash out the puncture wounds on his hand that had begun to heal up already. "Fuck. Those are deep." he hissed.

Grace watched him quietly, crawling to his side. "I'm sorry, Zack, shit, I'm so sorry. I just...I just, I don't know what came over me, I needed.."

"It's fine, Grace." his voice was gruff as he pulled his hand away, rinsing out the dirt before he stood. "You're fresh. You've never smelled human like that before, not that strong. They had a bleed somewhere... I don't know where, but it must have been blood," he frowned. it wasn't like she hadn't been around humans before. She had. They must have had something, a cut, blood somewhere she had scented. That was why he kept her away from the mosh pits at concerts-- he knew the scent of blood would drive her crazy. He remembered the frenzy that came with the scent. It was a pure, animalistic drive.

She was totally silent the rest of the walk home. Wet and covered in mud, she trailed behind Zack, too afraid to speak. She shivered softly, sitting on the front steps to pull her boots off. "Are you angry?" she whispered, laying her boots aside.

Zack frowned. "Yes. And no. I don't know what happened, why that human smelt so good to you. I'm mad. But it's not anything you could help." He slicked the water off his face, grunting. "Go upstairs. And stay there." 

She scurried, hopping to do as she was told. She hurried past the living room, even though Kat was already coming out to see what happened. Grace closed the door, listening to the hum of voices behind it. She heard Kat's voice, soft and smooth and then Zack's, hard and angry.

It seemed like they talked for a long time. Kat's voice would hum through and then Zack's would counter. Again and again until she heard steps on the stairs and Zack came in, closing the door. His face looked worn, tired. he rubbed his hand over it, sighing as he sat on the bed. His clothes were still damp, leaving a dark spot on the cover. "Kat thinks that I need to punish you."

Grace whimpered, resting her head on his shoulder. "I said I was sorry Zack. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened..."

"I know." Zack rubbed his face again, trying to right his wet hair. "She...disagrees. She thinks I've been too soft on you and that you could benefit from some sterner discipline. She wants me to cane you...she thinks you should get fifteen. She said she'd settle for ten. So that's what it's gonna be."

Terror coursed through her. She was both frightened and furious, pushing Zack away from her. "I thought you were supposed to protect me." She hissed, betrayal seeping into her voice.

"I can't always do that, Grace. She's my maker. She gets a say, whether I like it or not, or its my ass on t he line. Trust me, I think this is too harsh. I said maybe three, she insisted. This was the best compromise that there was going to be." He stood up, frowning at her. "I'm sorry. I'll try and do it quick. Get up."

Grace knew the drill. She wasn't happy, not even a little bit, but she did as she was told. She peeled her wet clothes off, piling them in the corner until she stood in front of him, shivering and naked. He piled the pillows carefully on the edge of the bed, nodding towards them. "Hips on the pillow."

She laid over the edge, burying her face in the blankets. Now she would have given anything to be over his knee instead of here. She had thought that him giving her a spanking was the worst thing ever then, but now she was here, naked and bent over while he prepared to hit her with something that even sounded painful.

Grace cringed as she heard the weapon whoosh back and forth as Zack tested it, finally resting it against her skin. He gave it a hesitant little tap. Once. Twice. And then his arm came back and it cut through the air with a sickening noise, coming into contact with her flesh in a white-hot explosion of pain. It was concentrated, like he had burnt her in a little strip. She howled, digging her hands into the bedspread. No amount of crying or gasping deterred him, though. The whoosh and flick came again and again before she could even catch her breath, one sob melting into the other until he paused. Her ass felt a fire like she had never felt before. She whimpered into the blanket as his warm hand caressed her red, punished bottom. Five strips adorned it, decorating it in painful red stripes from the top of her bottom to the back of her thighs.

Zack was panting with the effort of whipping her, his hand soft as he stroked down her bottom. HIs touch made the welts burn, but she moved into it anyways. "Are you okay, Gracie?"

She snuffled, trying to gather herself together through the pain. "It h-hurts."

"I know it does. I do, really. There's five more left. Do you want them slow, or fast?"

It was a dumb question. She didn't want them at all, but she knew no amount of crying would deter him from her punishment. All she could think of right now was how much she hated Kat. And how much she thought Zack probably deserved his canings more than she deserved this one. Right now, it was hard to feel any sympathy for her maker. "Fast."

He tapped it again, soft at first as if he were aiming, and then like before the came rapidly. The whoosh and smack, whoosh and smack. With every hot, burning strip he laid on her bottom she cried and squirmed as he counted out loud, sobbing noisily into the blanket. It hurt, god, it hurt. The weapon was cruel, whippy and painful. It felt like it cut right through her, worse than any of the other punishments. They had left her bottom hot and sore and red. This was welted and painful, a deeper pain than before.

It seemed like the pain would never end when finally Zack stopped, still panting as he dropped the cane onto t he ground. His hands rubbed the weals, like he could somehow take them back, but Grace squirmed away from him. "Stop touching!" She squealed, hands covering her bum protectively. She didn't care right now that she was naked, that he could see her sex and her breasts as she shifted away from him. He did look sorry, to his credit. He had spanked her many times but not like this. Not this much pain, not this harshly. her face was soaked with tears and he frowned, stepping back.

"I'm sorry, Grace. I didn't want to give you so many. I didn't want to hurt you."

She wiped her eyes, struggling to get herself under control as she laid on her belly, the pain aching through her body. "I know. I know. Just...don't touch me." she murmured.

Zack nodded. He stroked her hair back from her face, touching a kiss to her head. "I'll get you some ice, doll." he murmured. He closed the door to their room gingerly and went downstairs to Kat perched in the kitchen, eyes on him. "It's done." he growled, grabbing an ice pack from the fridge.

"Ten? I heard a lot of screeching." Kat asked. "You never screeched that much."

"Ten." He said. The last thing he wanted to remember was himself as Grace, bent over the end of Kat's bed. "Like I said."

"Good. She needs to learn some time, love. You're doing her a favor, teaching her early."

Zack nodded. But he sure didn't feel like it.


	8. The Make Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack and Grace make up sexily.

Grace had spent the better part of the last two weeks sulking. While Kat, Zack and Matt discussed and poured over maps and went out at night, she stayed in the room she shared with Zack. Whenever he requested her to come downstairs she did so grudgingly, avoiding eye contact with Kat. Matt made a point to put his arm around her and ask her questions, but she didn't even really want to talk to him. She wasn't stupid-- she knew Zack would have told him exactly what went down and it made her feel ashamed to know that Matt knew. Ashamed that they had talked about the intimate details of her punishment, ashamed that he knew she had disobeyed Zack so deeply even if it hadn't been on purpose. 

For the most part, Zack let her sulk. Her welts had faded quickly, leaving her ass as round and unblemished as it had been before. It had taken a day or so, during which she cringed every time she sat, but the welts had long gone. Grace was certain he was so permissive at least partially because of guilt. He had let her stay the whole first three days hidden in their bedroom, bringing her blood. She had pressed her ear to the door and heard him and Kat having a noisy argument, him telling Kat that Grace wasn't feeling well, that the weather didn't agree with her and she was sleeping. Kat didn't believe him. Grace heard her yell that Zack was soft. That he needed to be tougher if he wanted to produce a vampling that they could use. He returned to their room that morning flushed with fury and slept restlessly. 

Zack and Kat fought a lot. More than once, Grace heard Kat threaten to teach him a lesson like he should be teaching his own fledgling, but their arguments never escalated past yelling.

She had been innocently minding her own business, hiding safely in the cover of their bed with a pile of books when she heard them yelling again. Slowly, she crept downstairs, perching in the well to listen to them yelling. Kat's voice got louder and louder as she scolded, slamming her hand down hard enough on the counter to make Gracie jump in the other room. "God fucking damnit, Zack. You can't let her sulk like a child. For fuck's sake. She's not a pet. She's a monster. And if you're not her master, than nobody will be and she will be a teenaged brat for the rest of eternity. Is that what you want? To be the guardian of a sulky teenager until the end of time? Whip her ass into shape!"

Zack snarled an animalistic snarl, striding closer to Kat. "Yeah, because I really want to scare the crap out of her. I want her only association with me to be punishment. Your goddamn advice was super fucking spectacular last time. Listen, I know you're my maker, and I don't want to disrespect you. But she's my creation and you need to let me deal with her the way that I want to. I know her. I know how to train her."

Kat's return rant was interrupted by a hand on Grace's shoulder that startled the crap out of her. "Shhhh. Jesus, it's just me. Who the hell did ya think it was?" Matt asked, sitting on the step beside her. 

Grace shrugged, rubbing her face. "Sorry. Forgot you were here."

Matt laughed and shook his head. "Gee, thanks." He paused for a moment, listening to the argument growing increasingly loud in the next room. "C'mon. You shouldn't be eavesdropping on them. Zack wouldn't want you to hear this."

She made a sulky noise of complaint, but followed Matt upstairs at his direction. She didn't want him to tattle on her...the last thing she needed was to be in trouble with Zack and Kat again, since it seemed that when she was in trouble with one it was also with the other. Matt followed her upstairs, nodding towards her bedroom door. "Don't let Kat catch you sneaking around." he reminded her.

Yeah, great. That was really what she wanted to hear. The idea brought back flashbacks of Zack, looking hesitant even as he whipped the cane through the air. The swoosh and smack as it hit her skin, welting it. The memory made her shiver. Her ass tingled and she squirmed trying to sit comfortably. 

She paced and paced, waiting for Zack to come up. When he didn't, she ran a bath, content just for something to sit in to take her mind off of her predicament. The more time alone she had spent cooped up here, the more she wished Zack hadn't changed her. She used to feel special, to be his girl. She might not have always behaved, he might have had to take her in hand a time or two but she was his girl. She stood in the back of his shows and cheered for him and most times, he left with her on his arm. Now she was here, in the middle of fucking nowhere with Zack downstairs, too preoccupied with politics and getting in arguments with Kat to spend any time with her. She felt like a sulky child. She wanted his attention on her, whether it was positive or negative.

Grace considered throwing a strop about not being allowed out of the house-- surely that would get her Zack's undivided attention. The idea was good. Except the stakes were higher, now. If it was only Zack, if he was the only one who was going to punish her and then rub her, and then forgive her for her naughtiness..but it was Kat, too, Kat who stood over him and told him to hit her harder, Kat who had scary weapons that left welts and bruises.

The bedroom door opened and slammed shut. "Gracie? Where the fuck are you?" Zack said, impatiently. 

Grace jumped, sloshing water over the side of the tub. "Here." She was surprised at how little her own voice sounded.

He leaned in the doorframe, rubbing his face with the air of a man who was expected to put up with far too much. His eyes flickered to the water on the floor and then to the naked girl in the tub, clutching her legs to her chest with eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. He shook his head. He didn't like the look of fear on her face. He hadn;t intended their argument to get so loud but he was certain that Grace had heard them yelling about her, even if she hadn't left the room. There had been a time that he would have been punished for even thinking about raising his voice to his maker but he was fledged now, grown and gone and Kat knew that. 

He sat on the lid of the toilet, watching Grace as she slowly unfurled, sinking below the bubbles. "I'm sorry you heard that. I don't blame you for wanting to stay up here."

She nodded slowly. Zack reached over and brushed his hand through her wet hair with more tenderness than he had shown her since they left California. Like a kitten, she moved into his touch. He watched her closely, a soft smile on his face as he slid closer, stroking her cheek. "I know it hasn't been great here. I want to go back to California too. And I'm sorry about the other night-- I mean, I won't say that I wouldn't have punished you. I would have given you a hell of a spanking for disobeying me like you did. But that was because I was following Kat's orders, not because it was what I thought you needed. And I'm sorry. I should have done what I thought was best for you, not what she thought."

His voice was rough and tired but the smile gave her hope and she nodded slowly. She liked his tenderness.

His green eyes moved over her hungrily, his hands sliding down her shoulders. She smirked at him, swatting the bubbles towards his hand. "You don't scare me, Zack. You might spank me and I might deserve it, but I'm not scared of you." she laughed, shaking her head. He arched his eyebrow, but she could see relief-- he didn't want her to be afraid of him. Respect him--- yes. Know that there would be consequences for her actions--- yes. But not find him terrifying.

She watched him closely, splashing playfully. He gave her his best stern face. "Don't you go splashing water all over the floor, Gracie. You'll ruin the wood. I'm not going to tell you again. I'll haul you outta that bath."

Grace laughed. "Haul me outta this bath and do what?" she purred, tracing her fingers through the bubbles. She met his eyes and watched him closely for what seemed like forever.

"I think you know what. I'm only tellin' you once." There was a glint in his eyes and a quirk in his lips, tongue darting out to lick over his snake bites.

She smirked. And deliberately swished her hand, causing the rub to turn into a tiny tidal wave, washing soapy water over the side, onto the floor. It splashed everywhere, soaking nearly the whole floor of the tiny bathroom.

"Gracie LaFleche, you stand your bratty ass up and get out of that tub!" His voice was as stern as he could manage but he was grinning, a big wolfy grin like he was going to eat her up.

She shook her head, throwing a handful of bubbles at him. "No."

He grabbed her arm before she could squirm away, slipping on the wet floor as he hauled her effortlessly up out of the bath. He wrapped an arm tightly around her middle despite the fact that she was soaked and slippery, squirming and squealing and laughing. "Noooo! I'm sorry I was naughty!" she laughed, kicking water everywhere as he slapped his hand down hard on her bottom. She squeaked at the sudden pain, her hands flying back to rub. A hot pink handprint had already appeared on her wet, milky cheek.

"Nope. I said to stop. And you didn't. So, little princess, now your little ass is going to pay." He snorted, slapping his hand down on her thighs and her bottom. He pulled her, naked and wet, right from the tub and sat down on the edge, fighting to keep a grip tight on her slippery body. He caught one leg between his so she straddled his thigh, his arm tight around her middle. 

"Owwwieee! Ow!" she whined, trying to wiggle her hips away from his unrelenting, hard hand. She panted, gripping the opposite ledge of the tub. He was soaked now too, water up his back, in his shoes, his pants soaked. Grace moaned noisily as an ache began to build between her legs. The more she tried to pull her bottom away from his hand the more she rubbed herself against his jeans. She rode him slowly, her pussy grinding against his leg with every swat. The pain bloomed short and sharp, more painful than when her bottom was dry. It was already glowing pink and hot, smattered with his hand prints the way it looked after he had punished her well for being a brat.

"I think my little brat is enjoying this more than she should." He paused, his voice husky as she purred with pleasure, rubbing herself with a passion against him.

His hand stopped slapping. Instead, it slid down between her legs and brushed tentatively against her, feeling her shiver with anticipation at his touch. The idea of her fucking herself on his leg while he spanked her made him feel hot and bothered, ready to bend her over the sink and fuck her stupid. A well-fucked brat could hardly have the energy to get herself into trouble. He slid his hand over her hot button and over the hand prints he had painted on her ass. He growled, gripping her tightly as he placed another hard smack, and then another and another. "Do it. Fuck yourself on me. You're so close--- do it. Come for me."

She didn't need to be ordered twice, and came with a noisy moan on his leg as he slapped his hand down hard across her ass. 

Grace lay there for a long moment, panting softly as Zack rubbed her gently, first her ass and legs and then her back as she slid off his leg and into a puddle of water on the ground. His cock was straining hard against his zipper now, and he wanted nothing more than her. Nothing more than to watch her under him, to see the wanton look of desire in her arms when he took her there again, and again, and again.

She gave him a pleased grin, meeting his eager stare. "You're soaked."she smirked.

"So are you." He said, peeling his wet shirt from his body. he slid his jeans down his legs. "Let's dry this up. And take it to the bedroom." 

Giggling, Grace threw their remaining towels down on the floor to soak up the miniature ocean. He loved watching her round, red ass bob and jiggle as she raced him to the bed.


End file.
